


Call Me Baby

by RcA



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, just in case the summary is misleading, pre-show shenanigans and post-show hookups with a side of friendly banter, set during MADE tour, that's it that's the fic, this is actually quite light-hearted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-18 16:39:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12391983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RcA/pseuds/RcA
Summary: Seunghyun wonders just how long Daesung intends to keep treating him like a baby.Probably as long as he keeps acting like one.





	Call Me Baby

**Author's Note:**

> I... I don't know what this is or how it got this long. Written in response to a message I received at Tumblr about TOP, Daesung, and the term "baby". Partial credit also owed to [this gifset](http://daesungindistress.tumblr.com/post/162726693617/cute-but-psycho6-we-have-coffee-im-not-sad). 
> 
> PS. It's never my intention to kinkshame. To each his/her own, different strokes for different folks, you do you, etc... But let's just say that for these two, the specific kink discussed in this fic just isn't for them.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This is a fictional work based on the public personas of real people, over whom I make no claim and to whom I mean no harm. Just having a little fun with them.

 

 

 

There's no coffee.  
  
_There should always be coffee_ , Seunghyun thinks forlornly, staring in misery at the coffee maker on the table before him. There should be coffee, but coffee there is not, and no amount of scowling down at the empty carafe can intimidate it into immediate existence.  
  
An absence of coffee in the final minutes before a show is never okay. And he's going to make sure everyone in the room knows it.  
  
"I'm so sad, I'm really sad when there's no coffee!" he complains boldly in his booming voice, drawing the eyes of everyone within earshot.  
  
"There is coffee... or there will be. It's just slow," one of the staff points out softly, watching him with-- what is that, fear? No, these people know he can be fussy and have learned by now to take his sporadic fits of passion in stride. Never is there _fear_ in their eyes. Amusement, maybe?  
  
No, Seunghyun realizes with a sinking feeling, it's worse than he thought; that's _pity_ lurking in those dark depths. He hates when people look down on him, especially when they do it from below. Strange, how someone so short can manage to make him feel so small.  
  
She's telling the truth though, he grudgingly admits. Further inspection of the coffee pot reveals droplets as black as his hair plinking against the glass bottom of the carafe, a thin trail of steam wafting into the air while the machine works, slow but steady.  
  
Alright. So there is coffee, or there will be in the near future. But it isn't working fast enough for someone who runs on caffeine like Seunghyun does. No one seems to understand-- or care-- that without it he can't function to the best of his ability. They're going onstage in twenty minutes and he needs coffee, not in five minutes but _now_ , damnit.  
  
The staff member offers him a smile, a tentative thing, and not one to forget his manners, Seunghyun returns it. Or tries to-- caffeine deprivation does terrible things to him, distorting his features until the smile he offers her resembles something closer to a grimace.  
  
His eyes follow her out of the room, her head bowed as she scurries off, spooked at last. So much for not scaring the staff, he thinks with a twinge of regret, and watches her disappear through the doorway from under his wide-brimmed hat.  
  
Great. First he was tired and cranky. Now he just feels like a bully.  
  
His eyes sweep the room, over their myriad of staff, many of them rushing about amid a storm of expensive clothing and flashy accessories and cans of hairspray and tubes of makeup and on and on. Their voices collide in a whirlwind of conversation until Seunghyun can't make out any of it, each voice drowning out the one next to it. In short, it's chaos.  
  
But through the commotion he spots one lone figure occupying a space on the couch in the center of the room, conspicuously quiet and by all appearances wholly undisturbed by the mayhem around him. The eye of the storm.  
  
He throws himself onto the couch, landing squarely on the cushion beside Daesung.  
  
"Well look at you, a picture of calm," he says, turning his back on the prospect of coffee for the opportunity to harass his favorite dongsaeng instead.  
  
"Hyung," Daesung says by way of greeting, too busy scrolling through his phone to give him more than a passing glance.  
  
"...You didn't hear any of that, did you?"  
  
"Not a word." Then the grin takes over, and Seunghyun knows he's being a filthy liar. "You might want to stop terrorizing the staff though."  
  
"You _did_ hear. You little shit."  
  
"Hard not to. Sorry, I'm _sorry_ \-- ow, _hyung_ \--" Seunghyun's hand, where it's closed over his nape in a bruising grip, squeezes harder until Daesung ducks his head and dissolves into laughter, one part amused, one part contrite, one part _pained_.  
  
He can't let him get away with that kind of backtalk. Not in public, anyway.  
  
It isn't always obvious, but Daesung suffers from pre-show jitters too. The signs are there for those who know where to look, and Seunghyun sees them all. Like that knee of his bouncing up and down a fraction, easy to miss. And the way he chews at his inner cheek, the muscles in his jaw working absent-mindedly while his eyes scan the chat window open on the phone in his hands. And Seunghyun knows that below that puffy jacket of his, his friend is working up a nervous sweat.  
  
He gets anxious like the rest of them; he's just better at hiding it. And Seunghyun has some thoughts about how he'd like to handle it.  
  
He wants to drop a hand on that knee and make it still, thinks about knocking it aside and sliding past it, imagines fitting himself between the other's legs and pressing in as close as close can get. Wants to take Daesung's face in hand and give him something better to do with that mouth than tear at his soft inner lip. Wants to strip him of his shirt and jacket and bare his skin to the air while he works up a sweat for a completely different reason.  
  
On Daesung's phone Seunghyun sees a message appear.  
  
_Seunghyun-hyung is complaining about not having any coffee. Staff tried to help. He ran them off._  
  
"Cheeky," he says, socking Daesung in the arm. _I'd pass on the coffee if it meant I could have you instead._  
  
But he knows that's wishful thinking, nothing more. Their private encore begins when the music cuts off and the lights go down, and not a minute before.  
  
"Is that Jiyong?" He leans in just enough to make out the familiar characters spelling out their leader's name. "Did he hear me?" Jiyong is in the other room. Seunghyun didn't think his complaints carried _that_ far.  
  
"He thought Youngbae snuck another pic of you naked," Daesung answers, tapping out another reply. "You were pretty loud."  
  
"No way. If that happened the whole venue would know."  
  
"The fans too?"  
  
"Yes, and our Youngbae would turn up mysteriously missing," he teases. He wouldn't hurt him-- probably-- but he wouldn't be against locking him in a broom closet somewhere dark and out of the way if it would teach him a lesson. "Sad to be one member short, but the show must go on."  
  
"You need it that bad," Daesung mumbles, fingers flying over the on-screen keyboard. Probably relaying his comments to Jiyong and whoever else is listening in.  
  
"Coffee? Fuck yeah I do."  
  
"Doesn't it make you need to pee?"  
  
"Are you saying I can't hold it?"  
  
"Just wondering!" Daesung squeaks, recoiling when Seunghyun raises a hand to punish him again. "The fans might not mind it though. Golden showers."  
  
Seunghyun barks out a surprised laugh, shoving him for good measure.  
  
"You've been spending too much time with our dear maknae."  
  
"There's a lot I can learn from him."  
  
"That's what worries me," Seunghyun grumbles and is intrigued when Daesung only smiles like he knows something Seunghyun doesn't.  
  
"He says we need to wean you off of it. Coffee, I mean," Daesung says, all his attention on his phone as another message pops up in the chat.  
  
"Who, Seung-- oh, Jiyong?" Seunghyun makes a face, hoping it conveys how disgruntled he feels. "Fuck that. Fuck _him_. He can have my coffee when he pries it out of my cold, dead hands."  
  
"You're addicted. Dependent." Daesung's head snaps up in alarm. "Jiyong's words, not mine."  
  
"Tell him if it's such a problem he can come in here and say that to my face."  
  
"That's a showdown we can't afford to have right now," Daesung says hesitantly, but his fingers are typing out another text and Seunghyun wonders what kind of message he's sending, wonders if he ever resents getting caught in the middle between his bandmates, stuck playing mediator and in charge of making sure everyone is getting along.  
  
The message goes through and Daesung's screen goes black.  
  
"What did you tell him?"  
  
"That you're open to discussing it but now is not the time," Daesung says, smiling sweetly, and Seunghyun laughs.  
  
"He'll see right through that," he mutters, but he appreciates the effort all the same. "You know, it's cute how you try to keep me from getting into trouble."  
  
Daesung's smile only widens and Seunghyun can hear the words that he doesn't say: _someone has to_. He knows his friend is thinking it, even if he's too polite to say so, the message well-intentioned but too sharp, too cutting to ever pass between Daesung's lips.  
  
Sometimes Seunghyun wishes he would just say what he means and mean what he says-- he can handle it-- but there is something holding him back, Daesung's ability to express himself clamping down tight on the things that matter. One day Seunghyun is going to find his way around it and get at the truth of what he feels. One day.  
  
When it's clear no reply is coming, he takes a moment to look at Daesung-- to _really_ look at him, leaning back and soaking up the sight of him. He's parted his long bangs, his hair a dark curtain split down the middle and swept to both sides of his face. It will be the last unimpeded view of his eyes Seunghyun will get until the show is over. Daesung's current hairstyle is somehow tame and yet the most daring thing their hairdresser, Taehyun, has sprung on any of them yet... because it's proven to be an _actual handicap_. Daesung was willing enough, and is too courteous to ever complain, even when he's walking into walls and tripping down stairs.  
  
Well, too courteous to complain where anyone can hear him. Daesung may be considerate when company and circumstances call for it, but contrary to the label their fans insist on, he's no angel. They don't hear him off-camera, behind closed doors.  
  
He feels for his dongsaeng and his unfortunate hair for this new album of theirs, but it isn't all bad. When else will Seunghyun get the chance to lead him around by the hand-- in public! And all under the guise of helping out a friend. Daesung would never allow it otherwise.  
  
And it's nice, he'll proclaim without fear or shame. Too often it's the other way around, Daesung guiding him with a steady hand-- in concert, steering him safely away when he strays too close to the stage's edge, and in award ceremonies when Seunghyun forgets where to stand, leading him out from behind the others so he can be seen. Daesung's eyes are on him often and if it wasn't for his subtle corrections Seunghyun would never know it.  
  
"Daesung."  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Don't you ever get tired of treating me like a baby?"  
  
The reaction is delayed, the question needing a moment to push past the conversation taking place on his phone. Daesung's whole body jerks in surprise.  
  
"I don't treat you like--"  
  
Seunghyun gives him a pointed look, challenging him to disagree.  
  
"I don't... do I?" Daesung repeats, uncertainty settling over his face. As if it just might be occurring to him for the very first time, his tendency to corral Seunghyun like some kind of overgrown, unruly child.  
  
"You kind of do."  
  
"Is this about me calling myself your babysitter that one time? That was years ago, I-- I thought you'd forgotten. Or hoped," Daesung laughs but everything about it is awkward and stilted.  
  
"I'm not mad," Seunghyun says bluntly. "You're coming to my room tonight, right? After the show? Like always? You're allowed to tell me when I'm acting up. Like a baby."  
  
Daesung rubs at his eyes-- carefully, heedful of the makeup he's wearing.  
  
"You were scaring the staff."  
  
"Was not," Seunghyun says automatically.  
  
"She was only trying to help."  
  
"Daesung," he says, snaking a hand up and over the other's arm to thumb at the soft skin inside his elbow. "These people are not afraid of me." If anything, they're probably laughing at him and his antics behind his back. Sometimes right to his face. It's all good.  
  
"Well, they should be," Daesung says, looking spent all of a sudden. "I've seen you in the morning before you've had coffee. You're a holy terror."  
  
"...I'm not _that_ bad," Seunghyun replies after a moment's hesitation. When in doubt, deny everything, right?  
  
"You _hit_ me when my alarm went off the other morning. Punched me right in the shoulder! Then you _bit_ me when I reached over to turn it off. The mark is still there!"  
  
"I did? Can I see?"  
  
Daesung shakes his head in disbelief, but all Seunghyun can do is frown. He should probably remember doing that; he should probably be disturbed that he doesn't.  
  
Daesung shies away from his prying fingers as he tries to lift the sleeve of his shirt for a better look at the damage.  
  
"Good thing your teeth caught my shoulder and not, _ow_ \--" Seunghyun's prodding fingers earn him a flinch, "--not somewhere else on my arm. Makeup could take care of it but you know they would be asking questions. Or wanting to."  
  
"They would just assume some pretty girl gave it to you. One with sharp teeth and a biting kink," Seunghyun says under his breath, inspecting the imprint of teeth with far more interest than he knows is appropriate. It's surprisingly defined and the abused flesh is still a vibrant pink; it would be hard to pass this off as anything else.  
  
Daesung whines, sounding attacked, "I don't want the staff thinking things like that about me! They're like family!"  
  
"Whatever. Everyone knows you're the real ladies man of the group. What was it Jiyong said about you in that one interview... 'He knows how to play'?"  
  
"He almost ruined my image."  
  
Seunghyun chuckles, remembering the incident fondly. He'd been seated beside Daesung, respectfully keeping his hands to himself for a change, but even with nothing between them but air he had felt Daesung's anxiety building the longer Jiyong let his cheap mouth run.  
  
Leaking their secrets is Seungri's forte. Maybe it's not Daesung who's been cozying up to the maknae lately, but Jiyong.  
  
"Well, it's true. You play very well," he purrs, and allows the hand still resting on Daesung's arm to relocate to his side instead, giving the soft spot over his hip a playful pinch.  
  
Daesung twitches and finally sets down his phone, the screen dark-- hopefully for good this time.  
  
"Can we just agree--" He makes a soft, startled sound when Seunghyun does it again, "--that Seunghyun before coffee is a dangerous thing?"  
  
"Which is why you shouldn't be making fun of me right now," Seunghyun croons, wrapping it up and delivering it as a threat of sorts, whispered into one ear as he leans in close. "Think about all the things I could do to you..."  
  
"This isn't really the time or the place," Daesung jokes even as his grin falters, a soft pink flush high on his cheeks peeking through layers of makeup. The sight of it, however subtle, spurs Seunghyun on.  
  
"We've got a little time."  
  
Seunghyun claps a hand on Daesung's thigh, comfortable, companionable. Aiming to crack that calm facade, to tap into that familiar heat and hunger he knows he'll find just underneath. The muscle is warm and thick and firm under his palm, just like--  
  
"Hyung," Daesung warns through a stiff smile.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
Seunghyun's hand moves up an inch, then another, fingers tapping out a rhythm on the denim, and he's reminded of Daesung's drum pad that is, for once, strangely absent. Daesung takes that thing with him everywhere; it's never far from his side before a show. Soothes him or some shit, Seunghyun can't really relate. He has what calms him down right here.  
  
" _Not here_."  
  
"What? I'm not doing anything."  
  
Daesung levels the hand on his leg with a desperate look, like if he just puts his mind to it he can will it away.  
  
"No one here cares if I have a hand on your leg. Just friends. Perfectly innocent." Seunghyun gives his leg a shake for emphasis. It's not like the staff hasn't seen this from them a million times already. Like Daesung said, they're practically family.  
  
"It only looks innocent," Daesung says in a voice that's fading.  
  
"Yeah, so what are you worried about?"  
  
His eyes lift and seem to lock on something then, so Seunghyun follows. It's Jiyong entering the room, a parade of staff in his wake, women hard at work applying the finishing touches to his hair even as he's on his feet and moving about the room.  
  
Jiyong's eyes hone in on the hand resting on Daesung's leg, and time slows to a crawl. Then he snorts and turns away, more troubled by the tiny woman standing on her toes and dousing him in hairspray, and Seunghyun can breathe again.  
  
"Look at that. Our dear leader isn't worried... so you shouldn't be either." And with that he indulges and squeezes _hard_ , getting in one last grope before showtime.  
  
As expected, Daesung jumps.  
  
"If you don't quit it I'm gonna snatch that hat off your head and throw it across the room, frisbee style!" he hisses, jerking away and curling into a ball on the couch.  
  
Seunghyun gasps in mock outrage.  
  
"You wouldn't." His Daesung would never do such a dastardly thing.  
  
Daesung seems to give it some thought.  
  
"No... I wouldn't," he admits, slowly uncurling. "I know you love that stupid hat. But... but you might find yourself sleeping alone tonight."  
  
" _You wouldn't_ ," Seunghyun gasps again, this time for real. He wouldn't... _would he?_ He isn't so sure. Hooking up after shows is their routine. It's practically tradition by now. A sacred pastime. Daesung wouldn't throw that away just because he's getting a little handsy when he shouldn't be.  
  
...would he?  
  
Before Seunghyun can voice his dismay further, Daesung pauses and cocks his head to one side, listening.  
  
"You hear that?"  
  
"What?"  
  
He hears lots of things. Too many things. Seungri cracking some lame joke in the other room, his indignant squawk when Youngbae-- no, Jiyong, definitely Jiyong cuffs him over the head for it.  
  
Youngbae's approach to correction isn't nearly so violent; he climbs atop his victim and smothers him with sweet talk until his legs give out, straining to escape from the barrage of sweet nothings. When Youngbae takes someone to the ground, he makes sure they're smiling all the way down.  
  
Seunghyun isn't sure how that qualifies as discipline, but it seems to work for him.  
  
"You don't hear it?" Daesung repeats.  
  
"No?" Seunghyun slumps against the couch cushion, lips puckering in the beginnings of a pout. "What am I supposed to be listening for?"  
  
"Your coffee. It's done."  
  
And he's right, Seunghyun realizes, straining his ears for the familiar sounds of coffee brewing and not finding any-- no bubbling, no hissing, no dripping. The silence says it all: it's time for some much-needed coffee.  
  
And he didn't even notice the wait.  
  
"You talked me through it," he says, and only then does he catch the scent of a fresh brew filling the room. He turns to Daesung in awe.  
  
Daesung treats him to a benevolent smile... and Seunghyun's heart swells at how he always seems to know exactly what he needs. Even if it's something as easy as a diversion.  
  
"I thought it would never be done."  
  
"Now you're just being dramatic. Go get it, cowboy," Daesung teases, but there's no need, Seunghyun is already standing, the heavy gold chains around his neck clinking noisily as if they share his excitement.  
  
Before he's even finished pouring himself a cup a camera is being shoved in his face.  
  
"TOP-ssi," the cameraman addresses him respectfully, but there's a teasing lilt to it that Seunghyun doesn't miss. "In just minutes you'll be onstage in front of thousands-- no, tens of thousands. How are you feeling right now?"  
  
Seunghyun lifts the cup in a sort of stately salute, in appreciation of the dark roast inside.  
  
"We have coffee. I'm not sad anymore."  
  
The cameraman chokes back a laugh and Seunghyun thinks _laugh all you want. While you're stuck lugging that camera around, remind me which of us gets to enjoy a cup of fresh, hot coffee? That's right, it's me._  
  
The first sip is _divine_. It's hot, but not so hot that it burns his tongue, and that's good because his tongue is booked for the night. He has _plans_. And the target of those plans is on his feet across the room, smiling gently down at Taehyun as she scolds him and fusses over his bowl cut, meticulously teasing the hair back into place over his eyes, ever the perfectionist.  
  
Seunghyun sips his coffee again and sighs in blissful contentment.  
  
But that's later. Good things come to those who wait, he reminds himself-- like hot coffee, and back at the hotel after the show, Daesung's hot body. Right now he has a crowd of screaming fans to slay.

 

 

\--

 

 

The door hasn't even sealed behind them before they're crashing into each other, colliding in starts and stops wherever there's a wall to hold them. There's a stifled grunt of pain from Daesung, and Seunghyun draws back and stares into a painting of-- steps? Stairs?  
  
"Ah, hyung, _move_ ," Daesung grunts, pushing at his shoulders. The painting is hung at just the right height that its bulky frame is digging into Daesung's shoulders. It rocks with them and threatens to leap off the wall.  
  
Seunghyun steers him away. Even when it's a shitty painting of a stone stairway hung in a hotel room he'll soon forget, art is art; it deserves to be handled with care.  
  
"That better?" he growls when they've moved away and found themselves up against a wall again.  
  
Daesung just grins at him and dives back in.  
  
After hours spent strutting the stage as T.O.P, their fans falling into hysterics under his heated stare, Seunghyun is finally getting his wish. He's earned this tonight, fastened together from lips to hips with Daesung who ruts against him like some kind of reward.  
  
They're in t-shirts and jeans, official tour merch, their faces splashed across the front and names in a tidy list down the back. Makeup is off but hair is still styled. There hadn't been time to shower at the venue before they'd grabbed their things and beat a hasty retreat back to the hotel.  
  
And why would they, Seunghyun thinks with a self-satisfied smirk, when they're just going to work up a sweat again?  
  
He's cupping Daesung's face while they kiss, fast and reckless, nails scratching at that patch behind his ear where his hair is downy soft. It's always shockingly soft, even when styled, and Seunghyun might be envious if he wasn't so damn appreciative. Sinking hands into that hair is pure indulgence and he partakes whenever possible.  
  
But his hands aren't alone in their explorations; Daesung's are busy too, kneading Seunghyun's shoulders with a touch that's just this side of painful, then skating up the sides of his neck to steady them bot, as they lose themselves in rapid-fire kisses that embody an entire evening's worth of excitement coming to a head.  
  
This was bound to happen. If there is one place that always brings their thirst rushing to the surface it's the stage; it's losing themselves in the perfect harmony of their music meeting their fans' praise. A swell of sound, a sea of dancing golden crowns. Their fans are like the ocean always reaching for the shore, and always falling short.  
  
But just like the shore separated from the sea, they can only connect in so many ways, and only briefly. Not all of their passion can be poured out on stage.  
  
Seunghyun grins.  
  
"And that's why we're here," he breathes into the scorching heat of Daesung's mouth. After all, getting off with each other is so much safer-- and far more _satisfying_ , he thinks-- than sticking it in some stranger.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Just thinking out loud."  
  
"You're _thinking_ right now?" Daesung mewls, clutching at his face, his ears, anything he can reach.  
  
"About all the things I want to do to you, yeah." _And all the things I'm hoping you'll do to me too._  
  
Breaking the kiss and leaning back, Daesung shakes his hair out of his face... but it's no good. It falls perfectly back into place. Taehyun would be proud.  
  
"Can't fuckin' see anything," he complains.  
  
"Poor baby," Seunghyun croons, taking one of Daesung's hands in his. "Does it matter though? All you really need are your hands..." He leads it down, down, until their fingers are teasing at his fly.  
  
Daesung hums in agreement. Then, "Off," he demands as he goes for the hem of Seunghyun's shirt instead. When they're both bare from the hips up Seunghyun is allowed only a moment to admire-- what little he can make out in the dark, anyway-- before Daesung is herding the both of them toward the bed.  
  
Or where he believes the bed to be. Seunghyun drags him back after he overshoots and walks right past it.  
  
"Where were you going? Out the window?"  
  
"Like I said," Daesung grumbles, swatting again at his long fringe.  
  
Seunghyun directs him back to the bed with hands firmly on his waist. "This way."  
  
"It's too dark in here," Daesung whines, but falls to the bed readily enough when his knees bump up against it, going straight to work on his belt. Seunghyun leaves him there to search for a light switch, and a small, dim lamp at the other end of the room flickers on. He hadn't minded the dark; his eyes aren't needed to map out the dips and planes of Daesung's body, and they've done this so many times that finding his way around by feel alone is almost second nature... but hey, mood lighting.  
  
When he returns to the bed it's just in time to see Daesung kicking his pants off his bare feet and onto to the floor.  
  
"Who's impatient now?" He frowns down at the pile of denim. "Not even gonna give me the chance to undress you?"  
  
"I'm saving you the trouble."  
  
So that's how it's going to be. He tumbles onto the bed beside his friend and sticks his lip out at him.  
  
"Don't look at me like that!" Daesung laughs, then thumbs at the legs of his boxer-briefs. "There's still this I guess."  
  
"Ugh, c'mere you," and Seunghyun snags him with an arm around the neck and hauls him down to the bed with him.  
  
Now on his back, Daesung reaches for him blindly, but Seunghyun decides to do him one better-- he sweeps his hair aside, granting him his vision. Daesung's flailing hands fall still.  
  
"Oh," he gasps, then _giggles_ , "Let there be light."  
  
_Shit_ , Seunghyun thinks through a sudden rush of affection. Someone is still riding the post-concert high.  
  
"Yeahhh. Found the light switch." He tugs sharply on his fringe. "But it helps to get this mop off your face, huh?"  
  
"You just missed seeing my big fuckin' eyes."  
  
Seunghyun shakes his head at him.  
  
"You can't say that kind of stuff on stage. You'll get us all in trouble."  
  
"No one heard it."  
  
"They didn't have to. They _saw_ it," he says, remembering how he had swung his mic away but mouthed the word at the camera, his moment of daring broadcast on the big screen for all to see. It had been a ballsy move, especially for Daesung whose image tends toward one that's squeaky clean, the classic boy next door.  
  
Seunghyun snorts. He knows Daesung would like to destroy that image. If only they would let him.  
  
"You should do it again," he says, touching a curious finger to the corner of Daesung's mouth, and he has to silently admit that he's right; this new hairstyle has its mysterious appeal, but those eyes of his weren't made to be covered up.  
  
"But you just said--"  
  
"I said you'd get us in trouble," Seunghyun finishes for him, then pauses for effect. "It would be worth it though, to see Jiyong lose it over you, of all people, dropping the F-bomb on stage."  
  
Daesung groans and turns his face into Seunghyun's neck, "He would whip me."  
  
"Can I watch?"  
  
"I said whip, not spank!"  
  
"There's a difference?"  
  
There's a peal of laughter from below; Seunghyun gathers him closer under his chin.  
  
"Oh my god, I get it now. You want me to get in trouble." Daesung untangles himself and pulls back, turning wide, accusing eyes on him. "You _get off_ on it."  
  
Seunghyun decides not to answer that, opting instead to smooth a hand down the center of the other's body, each finger conforming to the subtle swells of his abs as his hand passes over them en route to its destination. He isn't quite as sculpted for this tour as he was for Alive, but that suits Seunghyun just fine. Puts them on a more level playing field.  
  
"So much for 'positively influencing' each other." Daesung gasps when one mischievous finger dips into his bellybutton where he's ticklish. "I might have to take back what I said. The fans will be so sad."  
  
"I would say this is a positive influence," Seunghyun murmurs, eyeing the outline of his cock clearly defined through his black boxer-briefs.  
  
Enough playing around; his hand plunges south, earning him a sharp, surprised, delighted breath.  
  
"Nice to see _you_ again."  
  
"Hyung, don't talk to my dick, it's weird," he pleads, but bucks up into his palm anyway, clearly not too bothered by it.  
  
" _You're_ weird," Seunghyun shoots back, and they both laugh.  
  
"You know," Daesung says while Seunghyun traces his shape through the thin cotton, his voice wrecked with arousal, raspy and low, "You're not as sneaky as you think. Hands on my ass all the way down the hall aren't going to go unnoticed."  
  
"Wasn't me."  
  
"Yeah, right, hyung, your hands are always wandering."  
  
"You're not complaining, are you?"  
  
"I may be half-blind, but I can feel just fine."  
  
"Good to know," Seunghyun murmurs, then changes course suddenly, sliding a hand under him and lifting. Daesung get it and raises his hips obligingly, gifting him with a solid handful of his favorite bottom in the whole wide world-- besides his own, of course.  
  
He crawls over him until they're flush from chest to thigh, their lips colliding.  
  
Daesung moans into his mouth, his hot breath tickling his lips, "Again?"  
  
He chuckles, one teasing finger sweeping down the center and dipping in, drawing an imaginary line down that long split that leads to a place on the other's body that Seunghyun has only ever had the pleasure of knowing in his most lurid dreams.  
  
A shock of arousal leaves him weak, his cock filling even more, if possible, at the idea that maybe, _just maybe_ , if everything goes right tonight Daesung might actually let him in.  
  
" _Uh_ \--" Daesung grunts, arching under him when the pad of his finger skims over his hole through the fabric. "Hyung--"  
  
"Baby," Seunghyun rasps, the rough sound twisting into a growl.  
  
"--huh?"  
  
"Call me baby."  
  
Daesung draws back, a strange look passing over his face.  
  
"Baby?" he asks, voice shot through with something like skepticism.  
  
"Yeah?" Seunghyun says with lopsided grin. "I mean... I like it. I just think it would be nice..." He trails off, the way Daesung is staring at him making him profoundly uncomfortable.  
  
Then, to his dismay, Daesung's hips are easing away, returning to the bed-- no, _no_ , **_no_**.  
  
"Wait, no-- wait--"  
  
Seunghyun clings to him, unwilling to let him go now that he finally has him, following him down until the hand cradling his ass ends up squashed between it and the mattress. At least the comforter is puffy and soft because Daesung's ass is not.  
  
"Um." Daesung lets out a puff of air that ruffles his hair. "I didn't think..."  
  
"Do you... not want to?" Seunghyun doesn't understand why this is an issue.  
  
Daesung bites his lip.  
  
"Didn't know you were into that."  
  
He shakes his fringe out of his eyes, and this time gravity is on his side, his bangs remaining where they fall. It gives Seunghyun a perfect view of his dark eyes, black in the room's dim light, as he gawks up at him in disbelief.  
  
"Into... what?"  
  
That's it, Seunghyun can't do this. His hand is  sliding out from under, a bout of anxiety gripping him as he gives up his hold on Daesung's amazing but still tragically off-limits ass. Out of reach for yet another day.  
  
Looks like he's not getting lucky tonight in the way he had hoped.  
  
"It's just... Hyung, I know I joke about you being like a baby all the time, but I didn't think you actually..."  
  
Now it's Seunghyun's turn to gawk. He rolls off and lands beside his friend, staring up at the ceiling in confusion because meeting Daesung's eyes while he looks at him like _that_ \-- like he's _embarrassed_ for him-- is sending little fluttery shocks of panic through him and it's fucking awful, feeling like this.  
  
Plus it's _killing the mood._  
  
"Wait, hold up," Seunghyun says, squinting at an air duct overhead. "Are we even talking about the same thing?"  
  
"I don't know. Are we?"  
  
"Call me baby, I said. What did you think I meant?"  
  
"Um." He hears Daesung lick his lips, then, softly, "Age... play...?"  
  
Seunghyun's eyes, if they could get any wider, would roll right out of their sockets.  
  
"What?!"  
  
And then he's lurching onto his side and laughing into the comforter, long and loud, all his nervous energy fizzling out. It's a good laugh, deep and cleansing and-- damn, _flustered_ , something in him shrinking at the thought of Daesung thinking, even for a moment, that he would want to be treated like an _actual fucking child_.  
  
And even worse, that he _gets off on it._  
  
"That's not what I meant! Why would you even-- Daesung, you idiot." He would cuff him over the head for that if he could just stop laughing long enough to catch his breath. "I meant that 'hyung' is good for in public and all, but when it's just us? Think of me as 'baby', not _a_ baby."  
  
"Oh thank god," Daesung laughs, relief written all over him, "Your birthday's coming up and for a moment I--" His voice drops like they're sharing secrets, "I saw myself shopping for adult onesies... _discreetly_."  
  
"Oh, fuck, no."  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Just onesies? You can't stop there," Seunghyun says, jumping at the chance to play along now that the confusion has cleared. "A baby also needs a bottle and a bib."  
  
"And diapers," Daesung fires back, "And a rattle. And a--"  
  
Seunghyun lunges, capturing his lips in a clumsy kiss with the intent to _shut him up_... and for a moment it works, Daesung kissing him back even as his lips and eyes are kinking up in amusement. He is _loving_ this.  
  
Which means, of course, that the silence doesn't last.  
  
" _A pacifier_ ," Daesung whispers, eager to get another word in. Seunghyun almost misses it, too caught up in the wet sound their lips make when they separate.  
  
"Don't need one." He smirks and slips a hand between his legs, cupping his crotch. "I've got the perfect pacifier right here," he says, giving him a squeeze.  
  
"Mm, fuck," Daesung squirms under him as that cupping motion turns to rubbing, Seunghyun's hand blazing a fiery trail up his hard length with a firm, even pressure that they both like. It's trapped in the fabric of his shorts, the flushed head peeking out from under the top, and Seunghyun skirts around it, going for his waistband instead.  
  
It's too bad, he thinks, curling a finger under the elastic and tugging, revealing him in inches, that unlike a baby craving its pacifier he can't take _this_ out any time he wants. Even if they could find a safe place, somewhere secluded where Seunghyun could draw him through the slit in his shorts for a quick suck, it would never work for them, blowjobs in public places. Getting his mouth on Daesung works wonders toward keeping _him_ quiet... but Daesung can't always keep a lid on that big voice of his when Seunghyun is on his knees for him.  
  
Daesung sits up and watches with heavy eyes as his shorts are coaxed down his legs and off, and then he's naked at last and Seunghyun feels accomplished because at least he got to relieve him of one article of clothing. Daesung forgets how much he loves freeing him from his clothes.  
  
"Wait," he says when his undies have been balled up and discarded, lost to the floor somewhere past the foot of the bed. "Wait, I have a question."  
  
"Hm?" Seunghyun shirks off his own and flings them behind him gleefully.  
  
"Hyung, this is serious."  
  
"...What?"  
  
"If you want me to call you baby," Daesung says, biting his lip, though there's no hiding that grin, "Does that mean you'll call me daddy?"  
  
"Fuck no," Seunghyun growls, silently tacking on an _in your dreams._  
  
"I was just ask-- _okay_ ," Daesung huffs when Seunghyun folds in half and licks a wet, hot stripe up his length, tasting him from root to tip.  
  
"Now shut up and let me rock you to sleep," he purrs, climbing over the other's spread legs and slotting himself between, his hips snug against warm inner thighs warm. Daesung slumps back to the bed and blinks up at him, seeming a bit dazed.  
  
"Isn't that my line?"  
  
"You may think I'm a big baby, one you have to look after all the time," Seunghyun says, dropping his hips until they're aligned, "but I can take care of you too, you know."  
  
"Okay." And then they're grinding, and already Seunghyun is slowly losing his mind.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah, but," Daesung gasps, hips rushing up to meet his, "But baby, don't rock me to sleep, make me _come_."  
  
"Shh," Seunghyun says, and that's the last word between them as for the rest of the night they let their bodies do the talking.

 

 

 


End file.
